It's All so Natural with Mom

So, I just fucked my mom almost accidently (if such a thing could be possible). She took my thick cock deep and swallowed my load, then walked off with the casual nonchalance that defined my mom's beauty and charm.

Me? Damn, I just fucked my mom!

I didn't really want to be thinking about my mom this way all the time, and I was increasingly horny with that wet-dream memory so fresh in my mind. I needed action and relief, so I decided to take action. I decided to go on the prowl and aggressively pursue opportunities.

The following night, Mom and I were passing ships at a neighbor's New Year's party. She was clearly buzzed again, and as always, she was radiating among a gaggle of admiring friends in the middle of the party. I smiled, waived, and took my friend Denise's hand and headed out the door. With Mom here, I knew home was clear, and off we raced through the deep snow to my house down the block.

Denise was a very long-time friend and regular fuck-buddy. Few women I knew loved to Sport Fuck more than Denise. She wasn't particularly good at it, but what she lost in technique she made up in enthusiasm. And in my book, enthusiasm and genuine desire are among the greatest aphrodisiacs. So for several hours, Denise and I rang in the New Year practicing new positions she'd learned from the internet. At one point, I think I heard Mom come home, but it didn't slow the sexual Olympics we were fully engaged in.

For the next several days, Denise and I held close company. Her admirably pliant ass was a welcome treat for several trips around the world. I think she may have even found a new position for her jaw (she was very excited about this).

Then she was off to a new adventure, this time with her roommate Gigi, who barely enjoyed male company and regularly pined for Denise's attention. My dance card free, I made my way down the block to Mrs. Westlake's house. And buckled up for the next great ride. I was still confused and needed to fuck some more.

Mrs. Westlake was an interesting story. She wished I'd call her Susan, but I couldn't do it. She taught kindergarten and piano to the kids of the neighborhood. She taught me. I don't think she was much older than Mom, but she was much stuffier. Or so I thought.

Since I had re-kindled my relationship with Mrs. Westlake, she had taught me some new things more fun than piano. In particular, she taught me the subtle nuances of dominance and submission. She opened this door widely to me some months back after a chance encounter, and an opening we both stepped into with style.

At one of Mom's many community events, I was helping Mrs. Westlake through some wet grass, and took her arm to direct her toward her car. I held her arm and waist firmly and felt her shutter and slightly melt into me. At first I thought she'd stumbled, so I grabbed her even firmer, and she sighed deeply. I looked at her directly, and asked, "Are you alright?" She dropped her eyes from mine, and said "yes."

That's when we both took a chance.

"Yes?" I asked. I was clearly asking her for something more.

She looked quickly to my eyes, and then down again. "Yes." After a long moment, "Sir."

Four hours later I walked in her front door and she was on her knees. I walked up and stopped in front of her, and she immediately pulled my cock out of my pants. She stalled completely as my large cock grew in her hands. "It's so . . . big. I've never seen anything this big. I'm not sure . . ." she said, trailing off quietly.

"Mrs. Westlake? You need to suck my cock right now. It might make your jaw sore, but you'll be okay. And you're going to need to get good at this. That starts right now. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." And then she started sucking my cock. The large, golf-ball-sized head gave her the most trouble at first, but she soon found as many ways to please it. After some time, some difficult moments, and apparently lots of practice when I wasn't around, Mrs. Westlake even was able to swallow nearly all of my cock. She liked to say it was "balls deep," but it was close enough for me to be amazed.

Over several months, that led to opening doors for both of us, teaching me how to dominate with compassion, and teaching her how to lead as a sub. Since then, we've enjoyed each other regularly. And she's learned far better than I would have imagined how to handle a big cock.

So going back to Mrs. Westlake's house now wasn't the sit-back fuck that Denise provided. It meant I needed to be ready to lead. And lead I did. For me, directing a compliant woman to bring pleasure in every possible way never gets old. For several days in the coming week, I found my cock constantly inside of Mrs. Westlake, who opened herself without a single hesitation or reservation. Commands were sometimes yet-to-be completed before they had been obeyed. And while we fucked a lot, we didn't talk much, which I attribute to Mrs. Westlake's wonderful habit of gently suckling my cock between active bouts of fucking.

"So, are you doing okay?" she asked me one day, coming up for air from my cock. Such a direct question was out of character for us. I expected she was concerned.

"Yeah, I think so. Why, is something wrong?"

"No, but I sense something is up." After a long silence, she asked, "Is it good?"

"Yeah . . . yeah, I think so."

"Good, because I love it when you fuck me like this, but I'm about to break." Then she looked up at me, then back to her feet, and said, "Sir."

That helped stir me from my frenzy. We finished our marathon that day.

I kept my sex life active for the next several weeks, with Denise, Mrs. Westlake and a few other friends, but while my pace never decreased, my attitude mellowed considerably. I just let the thing that had happened with my mom rest. With all the other fucking I'd been doing, the memories of fucking my mom and the image of that drooling creampie were now a bit more ethereal, and a little less real.

I expect Mom knew what was going on. We were very transparent in our lives and she was very happy to accommodate my independence. But I also sensed that she was somehow intrigued or interested more than in the past. Then I decided this was just me continuing to obsess about our moment together.